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Landing Pads Are Not Good For Demarians
Goldenfur is here standing near the artemis, like if he waiting for someone, or something. Dayton holds an enormous basket of fried shrimp in one hand, picking them out one by one to plunk in his mouth. He walks towards the gathered ships. Goldenfur as soon as he sees dayton, he craw to below the artemis, and try to stay here, out of the vision of the man. Dayton wanders towards the High Roller, not noticing the large golden Demarian as of yet, crunching on the shrimp messily. Goldenfur continues there, then he try to hide behing the artemis but fails to hide - instead, he bangs his head on the lower hull of the Artemis. OW! That made quite the racket. Dayton turns his head at the sound of the banging, his eyes narrowing behind his mirrored glasses. "What the fu...who's there?" he asks, now heading towards the Artemis. Goldenfur starts to craw backward more and more fast, trying to not be seen by Dayton. Goldenfur knocks over a toolbox next to the landing strut at the front of the ship. Dayton bends over, setting the basket of shrimp on the ground to look under the belly of the ship. "It's you," he says darkly, eyes adjusting briefly to the shadow. A hand moves to one of his pistols, the other wiping shrimp grease onto his shirt. Goldenfur rolls to do not have the ship above him, and start to run to the other side of the ship, trying to make ship stay between him and dayton, then he try to climb the ship, but Goldenfur can't even think about climbing, because he just ran smack into the landing gear and sort of hugged it. The impact knocks him backward, dazed, and drops him on the tarmac. Dayton maneuvers between ships, drawing a blocky pistol from its holster and keeping it close to his side. "You have any funny techie shit to poke at me now, kitty?" he asks grumpily. Goldenfur turns on the ground to face dayton, then say "No... Sivad cops took them from me... Please let me go!!" then he notices the gun already out of the holster and start to shout "SOMEONE HELP ME!!! DAYTOON WAAANTSS TO SHOOOOT MEEEE!!!!", then he try to stand again. Goldenfur tries to get up and run again, but he just flops about rather helplessly instead. Dayton looks around briefly with alarm, then raising the pistol to the Demarian. "Screaming is going to get you killed, Demmie," he hisses, aiming at the Demarian's foot and firing. Goldenfur tries unsuccessfully to dodge the blast from Dayton's gun, which - at this range - amputates the foot from the bottom of the Demarian's leg and instantly cauterizes the wound. The severed foot flops over in its smoldering boot next to the landing strut. A dirty, dark-clothed man emerges from a path in the forest. The sounds of shouting quicken his footfalls, and Arnassis, looking like he's come from elsewhere in the jungle, approaches. He ducks at the sound of discharging plasma, pulling a kerchief that had been hanging at his neck upwards over his nose and mouth against the ozone and in anticipation of the stench of burning fur. The Lunite emerges from between two starships, perhaps fifteen feet behind Dayton, shotgun held by the pistol grip hanging down by his leg. "No need to kill the cat, is there, Dayton?" Goldenfur screams as his foot go some feet away, then he hear Ren, look to him as he feels the pain going by his body and scream "Heeeeellp!!!" then he just stop moving, to do not use more energy that he is going to need later to recover... Recover what he can... Dayton pivots quickly at the sound of Ren's voice, weapon low as he begins walking away from the prone Demarian. "If I hear from you again, you'll be missing a lot more than that," he grumbles in Goldenfur's direction. "I suppose not," he calls out, eyes fixing on the Lunite's. "A rug missing a foot is never quite as attractive." Ren Arnassis shadows Dayton's footsteps, keeping the same distance. He breaks eye contact once, attention focused briefly on their destination, before his eyes lock once more on those of his prey. He snorts, and the shotgun swings at his side as he walks. "S'pose not," he agrees. "Neither's a human with them goofy ass sideburns." He gestures to Dayton's dolphinoid muttonchops with the barrel of his shotgun, a slow, one handed motion, and tilts his head. "Don't suppose you'd agree wit' that as makin' you a candidate fer removal from the universe." The Lunite's mouth twists upwards at one corner, then falls again. Dayton begins sidestepping towards the forest, eyes never leaving the hunter. "Don't suppose I would," he says simply, a grimace-smile playing across his features. "Don't suppose you'd just turn your pretty little head around and go the fuck away?" he asks, his offhand snaking up towards his other pistol. Where Dayton's smile is part grimace, its opposite number bares Ren's canines in predatory anticipation. Slowly, Arnassis shakes his head, lifting the shotgun. "Nope," he purrs, cocking the weapon with a satisfying *CLICK* and stepping directly towards Dayton in one movement. "Don't suppose I would." He breaks into a full sprint, closing distance on the other man. The shotgun is, for the moment, pointed inexplicably towards the ground near Dayton's feet. Dayton backpedals quickly, raising his drawn plasma pistol and firing while the other hand paws desperately at the pulse pistol in the holster, eventually yanking it free at an odd angle way above his head. He growls, "Why do you always want to get close and touch someone?" he asks, his heel kicking a rock and ever-so-slightly breaking his stride. The blast fired from Dayton's plasma pistol sears through Ren's flak jacket, ruining the vest but allowing Arnassis to survive with only second-degree burns to his side as he falls to the tarmac. This gives Dayton a chance to either flee into the woods or move in on Arnassis. Ren Arnassis grunts heavily when body slaps on landing pad, one or two pieces of gravel sticking to the burnt skin at his side as he slowly pushes up, trying to get his feet under him and start getting his gun up again. Dayton gasps briefly as the plasma hits its target, wincing slightly as it melts the vest. It doesn't take him more than a second to make his decision, however. He turns and begins running towards the forest with a gun in each hand. The shot goes wide left, missing Dayton, who thus manages to disappear into the woods. Dayton hammers his way down the path, glancing back as he hears the shot. It is not long before he is out of view completely. It's dark, Ren's hurt, and his quarry has a long lead. The Lunite grimaces as he pulls himself slowly to his feet, shouldering the shotgun and turning towards the scattering of ships on the landing pad. After a moment's thought, he looks for and then collects his shell casing and a scrap of flak jacket that came off as the plasma burned through it. He leaves the unconscious Demarian where he is and limps towards the Artemis, rubbing one knee. Category:Classic Demarian logs Category:Classic New Luna logs Category:Classic Underworld logs Category:Classic Lunite logs